Show Me Where to Look  What Will I Find?
by thisisnotmybeautifulhouse
Summary: Alex keeps things mostly together after he, Hank, and Sean return to Charles' home and they all try to be patient while the professor recovers in the hospital.        After all, it's what you do for your family.


Before his chances for even a facsimile of a normal life clanged ominously shut, Alex had needed to fend for himself and his foster sister fairly regularly.

The Blandings were socialites, always off at one party or another, and though they had enough money to buy a small island in the Caribbean, they never bothered to hire a nanny. Alex quickly found himself becoming Haley's mother, father, brother, and best friend all at once. It was a heavy responsibility, especially since his foster parents really only wanted him to be Todd, the son they lost long before his time. Someone had to look after Haley though, and he loved his foster sister, who reminded him a little of his younger brother Scott; precocious and sweet, and just a little mischievous, never expecting anything from him other than his time and affection. Alex learned how to multitask and time-manage with the best of them. He cooked, he cleaned, he read bedtime stories. Through it all, he did his school work, made sure to take Haley out to the park, and every once in a while found the time read the next account of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes in the privacy of the room which was still decorated in Todd's old things, a shrine to all the ways Alex would never be what the Blandigs wanted him to be.

He grew to enjoy caring for others. He cared so fiercely that when he and Haley were kidnapped, his powers awoke with a vengeance, killing the boy who dared to touch Alex's little charge. In prison, he had no one to care for but himself, and he grew bitter from loneliness and lack of direction. Charles and Erik strolled into his life with a new purpose, and he felt parts of himself coming alive once more.

All he could think when Angel walked over to join Shaw and his vicious group of sycophants was, '_I refuse to lose another one_,' with Haley, alone under the weight of her parents' expectations, flashing in his minds' eye. In the end, he lost Angel _and_ Darwin, and it gutted him. He wanted to hold everyone close – preferably at his back, to keep them away from stray plasma – and yet life continued to pull the people he unwittingly allowed himself to care for away.

Then Erik cut his ties with all of them, and Alex decided he was sick and tired of watching everyone slip through his fingers. There were at least three people left to look after, and he would throw himself into the fiery pits of hell before letting any of them fade away. So when he finally made it back to the manor with Hank and Sean, Alex took it upon himself to keep all of them fed and at least relatively clean; he could wash and iron the other young mutants' clothing, but that did not mean he would browbeat them into bathing more often than they were wont.

Frequently, Alex found himself venturing into the lab which he had wordlessly helped Hank restore the day after they returned from Cuba, in order to place beside the young scientist the meals which he would otherwise forget to consume, so captivated by whatever experiment held his attention at the time. Every once in a while he convinced Hank to join him and Sean for a meal in the kitchen or for a run out in the pure air of grounds, but for the most part he had to make the journey into Hank's territory if he wanted to other young man to socialize at all.

Tonight, he brought a plate heaped with pork chops and homemade applesauce and set it down on the far side of the granite-topped table, where a massive blue form hunched over a microscope, every individual electric blue strand quivering with the excitement of discovery. He hopped up onto the table, waiting patiently for Hank to acknowledge that there was a world outside of a chemical's molecular structure. In the early days, he had tromped inside with a, 'Bozo, get your ass over here,' and plopped the tray down emphatically. However, time and observation had taught Alex that Hank ate best when his thought process on whatever he was tinkering with came to a natural stopping point, rather than an abrupt and rude cessation.

It started with a minute twitching of Hank's nostrils, and then a gradual slowing of his hand as it scratched notes in the journal where he recorded his latest findings, and ultimately a closing of said journal. He straightened to his impressive natural height and turned toward the source of the scent which set his stomach growling and _purred_, pushing his spectacles further up his nose and meeting Alex's eyes.

Hank closed the short distance between him and the plate calling his name, briefly forgetting his manners, focused entirely on taking that first bite of delicious pork, eyes closing and chest rumbling in pleasure. Feeling like a voyeur, Alex shifted and glanced away. He did not suffer from false modesty – he knew his cooking was good – but the noises Hank was making were obscene. "Thank you," he sighed, deep voice doing something odd to Alex's gut.

Alex swallowed and nodded jerkily. "Sure. Can't have you starving away down here. Besides, what would I tell the professor when he gets back?" It was an old discussion, one they could probably have in their sleep after repeating it at least once a day for nearly two months.

Normally, this was the part where Hank would give him a quirky little half-smile and nod before launching into an explanation of whatever project currently held his attention. Apparently he wanted to do something a little different this time. "You realize Sean and I don't actually expect you to do this, right? And that the professor wouldn't either?"

Blinking at Hank as he scooped up a spoonful of applesauce, Alex asked, "Who else is going to?"

"Well, I mean – Sean might be able to help. I would do it, but for some reason my proficiency in Chemistry does not translate into skill in the kitchen, and there's a very high probability of me poisoning us all, but it doesn't seem fair to you that you're the one doing everything for the two of us and we don't really do anything for you and –" Hank was rambling, and while it was adorable to see an enormous being babble on anxiously, Alex felt well within his rights to place a hand over his blue lips, which felt better than the softest lambskin, stemming the outpouring of his thoughts.

Alex resigned himself to throwing his bad boy image out the window in order to assuage any lingering guilt. At least it was only in front of Hank, and it wasn't like he would go spreading it around to the rest of the world, holed up in his lab as he always was. "Has it occurred to you that I might actually enjoy doing it?"

Clearly it hadn't. Hank was looking at Alex as though he was seeing him properly for the first time, and Alex had to resist the urge to squirm under that keen scrutiny. Rather than press him further, Hank made a '_Hmm_'-ing noise and turned back to his dinner, talking about a protective coating he wanted to create for their new suits. Alex's shoulders relaxed, and he only then realized that they had been hunched and stiff. He mentally shook his head at himself. Honestly, Hank was the least likely to judge him for his parental predilections.

He thought that might have been the end of it, but several nights later, in between moaning over bites of Alex's chicken alfredo, to which he always added steamed broccoli in a valiant attempt to keep them all from dying of vitamin deficiencies, Hank asked quietly, "So who was it?"

Jerked from his musings on whether or not Hank realized just how dirty the way his tongue was caressing his fork every time he ate a morsel looked to other people, Alex gave an intelligent, "Huh?"

Hank glanced away and then refocused on Alex. "Who did you take care of before…?"

"Before they clapped me in irons and I never saw her again?" That was probably a bit harsh, especially considering Hank was only trying to handle his past delicately in order to avoid stirring up old pain. He couldn't possibly understand that every memory from his past was going to hurt no matter how carefully it was brought to the surface – how every time he thought of little Haley, who would be – what? Thirteen now? – he felt a searing in his abdomen that had nothing to do with his ability to channel the cosmic forces of the universe. Still, Hank looked as crestfallen as he would if he accidentally stepped on a small kitten, compelling Alex bite his lip in contrition and share that, "Her name was Haley Blanding. She was my little sister in all the ways that mattered. Her parents were never really around, so I watched over her instead." He scrubbed a tense hand through hair which was already mussed from standing a little too close to Sean while he practiced earlier in the day, before whispering with remnants of old anger, "They were so obsessed with the son they lost that they never even saw the daughter they still had, until the asshole that took Todd away from them came for me and Haley, too."

Eating mechanically after becoming too enthralled by the story no one at the manor – save Charles, who was currently in the hospital – had ever heard to revel in the rich flavor of the creamy sauce and perfectly grilled chicken, Hank actually dropped his fork at the reference to Alex's kidnapping, staring at him with wide eyes and having to fight against every part of himself which screamed the need to protect Alex from the rest of the world. No matter how he felt, Alex was not actually his, and he needed to maintain at least some boundaries. Besides, Alex could take care of himself. He forced himself to feign relative calm and ask lowly, "And that's when your powers manifested?"

Chuckling humorlessly, Alex muttered, "It sounds so innocent when you say it like that. But yeah, that was the first time I shot plasma out of my chest. Sliced the bastard in half 'cause he hit Haley. I'm not ashamed of it, not really, but I don't ever want to kill anyone again if I don't have to."

"You think we will have to though," Hank guessed, voice and eyes solemn.

He swallowed, throat raw and mind overflowing with images of a stray bullet and a lone man flying out to command and conquer, and so many other ways that their fate had been sealed on that awful beach two months ago. "Yeah. I know we will." He sniffed, and it sounded suspiciously wet, so he hopped down from his usual perch on the blacktop. "Anyway, I was going to bake a cake for tomorrow when Moira comes over, so I'll leave you to it. I guess I'll see you whenever you drop your plate off in the kitchen."

Halfway to the door he heard Hank call, "You know you don't have to feel obligated to do this, right? I know you said that you enjoy it, but it's okay for you to take a break every once in a while."

He turned back toward Hank and stared at him, searching for some way to make sense of everything he was thinking and feeling, not just for Hank's understanding, but for Alex's as well. "Look, I… when Charles came and found me and brought me to all of you, it was like… like finally having a family again. And I may not remember much about my parents, but I do remember my father telling me when I was little that we should always do whatever it takes to take care of our family. So yeah, I could take a break, but I don't want to, because taking care of you and Sean, and the professor, whenever he actually comes home – to me, that means that I'm doing right by my family." He resolutely ignored the shaky and awkward feeling that came with sharing his emotions, with making himself vulnerable. Hank would never take advantage of him; he knew that, and it was part of the reason he was there in the first place, the reason he always made the long trip down to the lab.

"So you feel like we're… brothers?" Hank sounded uncertain, and Alex scrutinized his expression, partly hopeful, partly wary.

He decided he had waited long enough, had given more than enough clues. Subtlety wasn't working. Walking forward with confidence he didn't really feel, Alex replied, "Brothers? Me and Sean, definitely. But you and me? I was thinking of something a little different."

He stopped right in front of Hank, staring up at the generally gentle blue giant.

Hank gulped, "Different? Different how?"

Reaching up, Alex wound his fingers through downy soft fur and coaxed Hank lower and lower, standing on the balls of his feet to whisper, "Different like," before bringing their mouths together at last, and then pulling away a fraction of an inch to breathe, "lovers," against his lips.

For a moment Hank simply stared at Alex as though he were the most beautiful thing in the entire world – and quite possibly the universe, as well – and then his face lit up and he pressed another, slightly more forceful kiss to his lips. Sliding his tongue along the seam of Hank's mouth, which parted quite willingly, Alex said a silent prayer of thanks that they had both eaten the alfredo, and were therefore equally saturated in the flavor and scent of garlic – and really, it was kind of awesome, kissing Hank while he tasted and smelled like the dinner Alex had made especially because he knew it was Hank's favorite.

Grinning too much to continue, but vowing that they would return to it shortly, Alex enquired, "I take it you're okay with that?"

"That's a rather vague summation of all the gathered data, but yes, Alex, I am definitely okay with that. More than okay with it, actually. I'm honored."

Alex rolled his eyes, his smile a clear sign that he could not be happier. "Hey, are you too busy, or do you want to come help me in the kitchen? You can sample the batter before it goes in the oven."

Hank glanced over at the test tubes filled with a liquid in various stages of congealing, a torn expression on his face, and then shook his head, looking back at Alex. "I suppose that couldn't hurt. The heat will, after all, kill any germs which might potentially enter the batter if I –" Alex shut him up with what was rapidly becoming his favorite method, feeling a warmth entirely foreign from the heat which suffused him whenever energy built up too much inside him.

He realized with a start that he was happy. Really and truly happy.

He loved his family, and would always strive to keep them safe and healthy and proud to be exactly as they were meant to be – Hank's dorkiness and all.


End file.
